The Beastlord
by tazspaz
Summary: Harry disappeared from the Dursleys when he was four and believed dead. Seven years later Voldemort was able to obtain the Sorcerers stone and rose once more. Now a single gray cloaked figure has turned the tide of the war, but who is he really?
1. Background Information

Harry disappeared from the Durlsey's when he was four and was feared dead by radical Death Eaters left over from the great war. When his watcher, Mrs. Figg, noticed no activity for a few days, she became concerned. The Dursley family was discovered hogtied and weak from lack of blood, while little Harry Potter was nowhere to be found.

For years the wizarding world would mourn the loss of their hero. In time, the little boy-who-lived was but a distant memory as the relative peace of the world lived on, but he was never forgotten. Ten years after the defeat of the vile Lord Voldemort, that peace would slowly disintegrate. Within one year all of the Wizarding world's hopes were dashed as the fear of the same dark lord they had so feared before rose once more.

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**1 Background Information**

A professor of the school where the leader of the light resided as headmaster had become possessed by the spirit of the evil menace, Lord Voldemort. For the young boy who had defeated him at the age of one had not killed him, he had only been cast out of his body to live as a spirit, a stealer of souls, a mist who fed on the despair and hatred of the world.

That year the Philosopher's Stone was being kept at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for reasons only known between Albus Dumbledore and the owner of the stone, Nicholas Flammel, and them alone.

An intricate maze of traps and tests of skill were left to guard the stone if all else failed. Unfortunately, the sole protector had been called away on business the night it was stolen by his colleague, the same professor who had been possessed by Lord Voldemort so many months before.

When Dumbledore had returned to the school late that night, he had sensed the dark presence of the thief. No longer was the scent or feel of darkness hidden from him, the dark aura washed over him like a tidal wave of hatred and pain.

Frantically racing through the school halls, his brightly colored robes flying in his wake; he flew past startled professors and roaming prefects before they too joining their headmaster in his flight.

So many fears raced through Dumbledore's mind as he ran through the possible reasons for this feeling of dread deep in his gut. All hope left was shattered at the sight of the abandoned shell of his late professor. The back of the man's head was nothing but gore and bone fragments as the demon who had dwelled within for so long stood to the side. A new body had been created for the spirit as the power of the stone was used up in its evil purpose.

Although powerful, the effects of creating a new body were not what the new benefactor had been expecting. Instead of the long black hair and handsome, but cold features that had been the source of so much fear, a pale, bald man stood in the center of the room. His eyes burned a deep crimson red and his facial features were distorted into a snakelike quality, his nose was nonexistent but for two narrow slits that widened slightly at every intake of breath. A lipless mouth opened in a sneer at the sight of the horrified group before him, as a forked tongue flickered out as if tasting the very essence of the group's fear. Sharp needle like teeth showed as he hissed at the sight of Dumbledore. Although powerful, he knew that he was no match for the leader of the light at this time.

Taking advantage of the paralyzed group before him, he quickly changed into his animagus form of a giant black basilisk and barreled through the gathered crowd. He did not escape unscathed though, Dumbledore had gathered his wits in time to throw a flesh eating curse at the slithering monstrosity before it was swallowed up in the many sharp turns and passages of the ancient castle.

Fear raged rampant for weeks after this event as news of the return leaked out over the country. Former deatheaters who had claimed they had only followed Voldemort under the imperious curse disappeared from sight as they raced back to their master's side. Legions of Loyal Death Eaters were sent out to recruit all manners of creatures. Many returned to their master with empty hands to be punished, while others returned with a few volunteers or prisoners under the imperious curse itself.

While Voldemort was feeling out his old connections and recruiting for his army, Dumbledore had not laid idle either. He had gathered the old crowd, a vigilante group known as the Order of the Phoenix, together the light stood a better chance of holding its ground. Taking a page out of Voldemort's strategy book, Dumbledore had sent out his own people to recruit for the coming war. But unlike his enemy, he did not punish his followers for their failure, he ruled with compassion and strength, creating a loyal army willing to give their own lives to protect their loved ones and their leader.

The third side of the war was the Ministry of Magic itself; neither Voldemort nor Dumbledore were worried about them in the least. The minister himself used up all recourses to protect his personal chambers and office first before even thinking about sending out his aurors to protect the people. After he felt that he was secure, he sent out ragtag groups of the leftover aurors to protect the towns under his jurisdiction. He held press conference after press conference, all the while describing in detail all of his elaborate plans to protect the people and trying in vain to uphold his image of the great and powerful minister that he could only dream of being. However, none of it mattered to the people anymore; his selfish attempts to protect himself first and foremost had not gone unnoticed as word had leaked out through angry aurors and ministry workers.

Within a week the Wizardgamet had ruled in favor of booting the current minister out of office and replacing him with a woman known for her compassion and strength towards the people time and time again. The new Minister Bones had been the leader of the auror department for years under Fudge, and unknown to all, she was one of the main members of the Order of the Phoenix as well. Minister Fudge had forgotten the most important thing of all, he had forgotten the love one has for their family and friends would always overshadow the whims of an arrogant and greedy bureaucrat, especially when he made his true objectives so obvious to the people he underestimated. (We can only wish that was true, but for the sake of the story it will be true in my little world!)

While the three factions of the war gathered their forces, a forth party watched from the shadows. Unlike the others, he had gathered an army of all manners of creatures many years before. He knew that the Dark Lord would return to power in time. Although quite young, he had a maturity and power that defied his very age. Ten long years had passed since he had banished Voldemort's spirit from his body, now all he had to do was wait for the right moment to strike. He knew that the wizarding world would need a boost to their morale soon, the Boy-Who-Lived would have to make his reappearance in the near future, but for now it was better to watch and be prepared than rush in foolishly and destroy what little chance humanity may have left.

After three years of living with his abusive and hated family, Harry had found an unlikely ally in a young vampire he had befriended one night while escaping from his uncles wrath in the forest behind Little Surrey. After relating everything he could remember of his short life to the curious young vampire, his new friend told him of his true past, not what the Dursley's had fed his young mind growing up. A great anger had risen within him as the truth of his family's betrayal became known. He decided right then and there that he would take his new friend up on her offer of training and a happier life, but in turn, he would have to let the vampires torture his family a little for the pain and abuse that they had inflicted on him in the past. Harry had agreed but on two conditions, they were to let the Dursley's live and would leave him as he was, a human.

The next few years were some of the happiest for the growing boy, he learned how to fight and how to control his budding powers with a deadly accuracy. But not everything was work and studying, Harry had inherited his father's knack for mischief and used it to great avail. It helped that his best friend was just like him, together they ruled as the unofficial prankers of their coven.

Over the years, the true extent of his bond with the vampires became known, his father's family had not accepted the pureblood's idles and had befriended all manners of creatures, dark and light. Some of his ancestors had even married into some of the covens of vampires, werewolves, and even a few dragonians could be traced to his blood. To say that Harry was not entirely human would be an exaggeration, he barely had any human blood in him. His mother was a full blooded high elf, although she had never known of her true heritage until the moment before she had died. The magic that had protected Harry from his parent's murderer had been his mother's life essence, something that only a high elf could do with their last breath.

As to Harry's inquiry as to how not just an elf, but a high elf had ended up in the care of a muggle family, he was given no definite answer. The high elves, or royal elves as some were called, had been thought to have died out generations ago when the Ministry of Magic began their purges of all races that could cause a threat to their power. The few survivors of the purges had been sold into slavery or were hit with so many restrictions that they were no better than slaves themselves.

One thing that the vampires were sure of was that there was absolutely no trace of magical or creature blood in the Dursley family, at that point, Harry had changed the subject to a lighter topic. He may have hated the Dursleys for what they had done, but he never wanted to know what his new family had done to them. Under his calloused exterior, was a side not many saw, a compassionate and caring side that his old family had never successfully destroyed.

Harry had not always lived with the vampires, he had traveled with werewolf packs and had even lived with the veelas, minotaurs, and dragonians for a bit. The goblins were a group that amused Harry to no end, they were incredibly dedicated to their work, but they kept their personal lives completely separate at all times. When not at work, they had their large families with children running around causing all sorts of havoc and chaos, an atmosphere that Harry relished with glee. He had gotten many ideas for his pranks from the goblins, some which the younger goblins had assisted with eagerly.

The minotaurs and the dragonians had an easier life than the goblins or the veelas, they lived outside of the ministry's clutches in the forests and mountains in Spain and Portugal. They were more myth and legend to the wizarding world than fact, for centuries they had stayed hidden, always a step ahead of the rest of the world. The only reason that Harry even knew of them was for the sheer fact that his 'family' liked to vacation in Spain. Harry had learned quickly not to rush blindly around mountain curves after that. Having a six hundred pound, twelve foot, and fully irate Minotaur charge you was _not_ a pleasant sight.

As Harry watched the three factions grow from the sidelines, he began to plan his reentrance into civilization. For an eleven year old boy, he was surprisingly good at battle strategy and concept. He would not show his face, but he would be there at every step of the way for the light, although he would never join them. His chance would come soon, far sooner than he expected at that.


	2. It Begins

**2 It Begins**

In the dead of night, the crickets chirped and sang their nightly songs, interrupted only by the footfalls of the dark cloaked figures making there way over the chilly September ground. The chirping stopped as an irritated figure kicked over a few rocks, crunching the small insects with his boot.

"Damn bugs, never a moment's peace." The dark figure muttered to the snickers of his comrades.

The leader of the group just rolled his eyes as he repositioned his white mask on the pale face beneath. "Enough, you can squish all the crickets you want later, _Avery_. Tonight we will spread the true fear of our lord to these vermin. Kill all who oppose you, if we are lucky maybe we will get to claim a few aurors as well. Now get out of my sight, all of you!"

Grinning maliciously, the Death Eaters raised their wands and charged into the sleeping muggle village below as they raised their voices in their battle cry. Above the awakening carnage below, the leader slowly smirked as he raised his own wand towards the sky. Muttering a single word, a jet of the blackest light escaped into the starry night as a giant green skull appeared high above, a snakelike smoke weaving its way around the dark mark. Without a second thought, the man raced down the hill after his cohorts. Spells flying from his wand as he struck down any escaping victims.

Sometime into the battle, a battalion of aurors arrived, but to no avail. They were quickly struck down by the superior numbers of Death Eaters. Very few escaped with their lives that night, causing more fear and hopelessness to spread across the countryside.

Skip forward two years…

In a small village on the outskirts of Berlin, Germany, a ferocious battle was underway. A small group of wizards had barricaded themselves and most of the townspeople into the small meeting hall in the center of town. Kicking out the glass of the small windows, a select few began to shoot spells into the surrounding ranks of Death Eaters that were closing in. The rest of the defenders had stationed themselves around the huddled group of villagers on the floor, ready to go down if needed.

Every one of them knew the cost of fighting this particular battle; this region had been a hot spot for Voldemort for some time now. It was said that an ancient artifact from Merlin himself was hidden within this land. No one knew what it was, whether it was of any importance or not, but the light knew that it must keep Voldemort away from it at all costs.

"Tonks, take over, Mad Eye's gone down." A tall thin man with graying hair rose from a sitting position on the floor as he hurried to the farthest window as the gnarled man defending slumped to the floor stunned.

A woman with coal black spiked hair and bright purple eyes stepped forward to cover the now undefended side as she fearfully watched her friend begin to shoot spells out the window with inhuman speed. "Be careful Remus." She whispered softly.

Another two defenders were struck down by a sickly green spell before an earth shattering roar filled the air. Silence descended immediately as both sides of the conflict looked fearfully about, only seeing the pale sweaty faces of their frightened companions. Another roar sounded throughout the night, only this time much closer to the center of the small town.

As the remaining members of the Order of the Pheonix watched from the shattered remains of the windows, a large group of Death Eaters were flattened under the hooves of a large black beast. Flames flickered along the edges of its bull like snout as it angrily towered over the whimpering wizards. More minotaurs appeared along the edges of the forest, trapping any unsuspecting or fleeing Death Eater under their hooves as they came.

Several Death Eaters had escaped in the confusion by portkey, as apparating wards had been set up earlier when the attack had begun, inevitably dooming many. The fleeing wizards had gone straight to their master to inform him of the outcome, undeniably, he would not be pleased.

"What's going on out there!?" Tonks screamed as she roughly pulled a panicking villager back into the huddle.

Remus Lupin was watching transfixed by the scene before him before Tonks screams registered in his mind. Turning his head slowly, but keeping his eyes on the lumbering minotours at all times, he whispered something incoherent towards her general direction.

"What?" Tonks yelled, fear creeping into her voice as she struggled to keep it steady.

"Minotours. Their real!"

While the Order was recovering their wits in the crumbled meeting hall, a black hooded man arrived by portkey in the center of the mayhem. Taking in his surroundings with a carefully controlled expression, Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort as he liked to be called, moved silently among his fallen followers and the towering beasts hovering above them.

Nearing the town hall, Voldemort let his presence be known as the few members of the resistance shrank back in fear from the windows. Leaking a bit of his aura for the right effect, he addressed the minotours staring maliciously back at him.

"Why do you fight for them? The minissstry will only lock you up or ressstrict you now that you have ssshown yourssselves. Join me and you will never have to fear them."

Silence met his demands before a soft chuckle filled the air. Stepping from the shadows a short gray cloaked figure approached the seething Dark Lord.

"They do not fight for the light, nor do they fight for the dark. As for the ministry's restrictions, why should they fear them? Minotours are powerful enough on their own to hold their own ground, pity the fool who wishes to control them."

"And who are you to ssspeak to me with sssuch an insolent tone, I can kill you where you ssstand before you can blink." Hissed Voldemort angrily, how dare this stranger treat him as if he were a common muggle!

"I had no intention of joining this war so soon, but it seems that Fate has her own plans for us. You seek the object of power that is said to reside within these lands, do you not?"

"Merlin'sss artifact, yesss, I am sssearching for it, if you have it give it to me now!"

The cloaked figure shook his head in silent mirth. "And how would you make me? If you have not noticed as of yet, your pitiful army is trapped under the hooves of my comrades. You may be able to take a few of us out, but I can guarantee you that you would be ground into the dust before you could get far. What I have for you is a proposition, I will give you the artifact if you will leave these lands for now. I know it would be too much to ask you to never return, you don't exactly strike me as the type of wizard to honor any agreement for long."

Voldemort observed the small statured figure before him with a critical eye. This stranger was openly antagonizing him in front of his subordinates, but on the other hand he was offering the very item that he had been coveting for so many months. If he killed the man now he could be searching for many more months if not years to come.

"You have a deal, my army ssshall leave thessse landsss for now in exchange for the item. If you attempt to trick me I ssshall know and will kill you where you ssstand." Voldemort snarled.

"Yes, yes, we have all heard the same little speech, torture, death, and the rest of that jazz." The small gray cloaked man replied in a bored tone, seemingly oblivious to the reddish tone Voldemort's corpse like face had taken. Reaching into his cloak, the short figure pulled out a small package wrapped in a bit of ancient brown leather and handed it over to the dark lord to the horror of those watching from within the crumbling building.

Voldemort smirked evilly as he held the object in his pale bony hand. At last, Merlin's lost artifact was finally his. If the myths were true, then this was the key to unlocking one of Merlin's many secrets.

"You have upheld your half of the bargain, and I will leave these lands for now. Release my men and I will let you live."

If the cloak wasn't hiding his face in darkness one could almost see the little man roll his eyes in annoyance. Raising his voice to be heard over the frightened squeaks of the trapped deatheaters and the ominous growls of his minotaur friends, he ordered the release.

With a wave of his wand, Voldemort brought the anti-apparition wards down as the air filled with the cracks of his fleeing minions. Clutching the crumbling package tightly against his bony chest, Voldemort apparated himself away, but not before glaring hatefully at the cloaked man before him.

As soon as the dark lord had left, the Order of the Phoenix ventured out from the ruins. The man known as Remus Lupin stalked over to the short man with a feral look in his strange amber eyes.

"Do you know what you have done? You may as well have just signed all of our death sentences yourself! That artifact in the hands of that monster could be disastrous, who knows what kind of power it possesses..." Lupin ranted on for a bit more before stopping to catch his breath.

The man just waited patiently for his chance to speak before answering the accusations with an indifferent tone. "That 'artifact' as you call it will be of no use to him unless he changes his _career_ drastically."

"You switched it with a fake somehow?" Lupin asked hopefully.

"Voldemort would have been able to sense a forgery a mile away, that was no fake." Lupin's face as well as the other Order members regained their pale, sickened expressions back at this point.

Turning to leave, he called over his shoulder at the defeated Order before disappearing into the shadows. "Merlin had many secrets, but few knew of his skills and interests other than magic. I doubt that his culinary interests were a highly sought over item, as he had a rather eccentric taste in food."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Deep within the walls of a crumbling mansion far away, a scream of rage reverberated throughout the halls as the residing Death Eaters hid from their master's fury.

"What isss thisss foolissshnessss" Voldemort screamed as he threw the battered book against the wall. Collapsing in his throne, he rubbed his temples as he attempted to calm himself down to no avail.

Scuttling across the room from his master; a short, bald man who resembled a rat more than a man in his appearance as well as mannerism, slowly picked up the book to bring back to his master. Glancing at one of the faded pages within, he nearly stumbled over in his surprise, and was barely able to keep his grin off of his pointed face.

Setting the open book down on a table beside the throne, he returned to the shadows to wait for his master's next beck and call.

On the page that was left open was an intricate script full of directions for a rather bizarre concoction. The title of the recipe was 'mountain troll stew'.


End file.
